Uncharted 2: What Lies Between
by Claudia McKnight
Summary: What exactly was going on it all those gaps Naughtydog left in the storyline for Uncharted 2? I can't say for certain but here's my take on it.
1. When One Door Closes

Nate sat straight up in bed drenched in a cold sweat. It had been months since their breakup and her good-bye was still giving him nightmares. He looked mournfully at the empty chunk of bed beside him where she used to sleep. Letting Elena walk out the door was one of the hardest things he'd ever done.

He'd never been so hung up on a girl in his life. Elena was just so different from any other girl he'd ever met. Maybe it was due to the fact that she was still so close. All his other ex-girlfriends were either on the other side of the country or in a different one. Elena lived right here in Florida. Some days he swore he saw her filling up her car at a gas station as he drove by or leaving the supermarket just as he walked in. In the end it never was her and even if it was her he'd never work up the guts to approach her.

Nate could still vividly recall the night she left, her tearful good-bye.

_This last adventure had gotten way out of hand. He was already two days late getting home. Elena must be worried sick. Pulling his jeep into the parking lot of his apartment complex he shut it down and climbed out. He didn't notice her sprinting across the lawn until she was in his arms._

_"Nate, oh thank God!" she said in his ear hugging him tightly._

_"Hey, hey," he said pushing her back. It was easy to tell she'd been crying. "What's wrong?"_

_"What's wrong? You're two days late and you wouldn't answer your phone. All I could think about was you lying dead in a ditch somewhere…" she rambled voice squeaky._

_"Elena, calm down," he said hugging her close and rubbing her back. "I'm right here, everything's fine."_

_She pushed him back, "Why wouldn't you answer your phone?"_

_"It broke," he said honestly._

_"It broke? What on Earth were you doing?" she asked and her eyes went wide. "Are those bullet holes?"_

_She pointed to his jeep where bullet holes did in fact mar the bumper._

_"You were treasure hunting again, weren't you?" she accused._

_"Elena, I can explain…"_

_"You promised you were going to quit!"_

_"You have to understand…"_

_"Understand what? One of these days you're going to get yourself killed and what am I supposed to do then? Am I just supposed to wait here until they call me in to identify your body. That is if they even find it. And if they don't am I just supposed to spend the rest of my life wondering what happened to you?" _

_"Elena, you're over reacting."_

_"Y'know what, Nate. Just forget it!" she screamed the turned around and stormed back into their apartment. _

_"Elena!" he called chasing after her._

_He took the stairs two at a time trying to catch up with her. She'd left the apartment door hanging wide open._

_"Elena?" he asked tentatively stepping inside._

_She was nowhere to be seen. He cautiously moved toward the bedroom and what he saw appalled him. Elena had her suitcase on the bed and was haphazardly ripping things out of the closet and stuffing them into it._

_"What are you doing?" he asked._

_"I'm done," she said darkly._

_"Excuse me?"_

_"I'm leaving!" she shouted over pronouncing each syllable._

_"What?" he said unable to hide the shock in his voice. "Why?"_

_She threw the last of her things into the suitcase and slammed it shut. If her face hadn't been red and puffy from crying already it would be now. Tears were freely streaming down her face. Seeing her like this killed him inside._

_"I love you, Nate," she said placing a hand on his cheek. "But I can't just sit around here and wait for you to get yourself killed."_

_She grabbed her suitcase and brushed passed him into the living room._

_"Elena, don't do this," he said following her. "I can change."_

_She turned on him wiping tears from her face, "No, Nate, you can't. We've tried that already and this is where it got us. Let's face it, you love treasure hunting too much. You'll never be able to give it up, not even for me. I've made up my mind. Don't make this any harder than it already is."_

_"Elena, please…" he pleaded voice faltering._

_"Good-bye, Nate."_

_She walked out into the hall and gave him one last longing glance. Then with a shuddering sigh she quickly walked away. The door swung shut behind her the sound ringing painfully in his ears…_

"Oh, Elena," he sighed.

The memory still hurt. His chest constricted every time he thought about her. Ironically, since she'd left him his life had become utterly boring. The only interesting thing that had happened since she'd been gone was that small adventure with Maggie last month. The only treasure in that was an old diary belonging to Marie Antoinette describing her true involvement in the French Revolution. Sure there were a few nut case French supremacists that tried to stop them but not on the scale of say the El Dorado adventure. They had a good thing going until he accidently called her Elena, just once, and she ran for the hills like he was some sort of pariah. Since then, nothing. No danger, no treasure. Just what Elena'd wanted. Why did he always have to lose something before he knew how important it was to him?

Sighing he threw back the blankets and crawled out of bed. There would be no sleeping after that nightmare. Luckily it was already five thirty in the morning so he wasn't losing that much sleep. Walking out to the living room he grabbed the remote off the table and plopped down on the couch. Flicking on the television he began channel surfing until something caught his eye. It was the opening sequence of the cable show _Discovered._

"I know that voice," he muttered.

"Hello," the voice continued. "I'm Elena Fisher and this is _Discovered._"

"Ugh! You're already in my head!" he growled. "Get off of my damn T.V.!"

Just as he was about to change the channel when something she said caught his attention.

"Today's show is about the legendary explorer Sir Francis Drake and his search for the lost treasure of El Dorado."

"Son of a bitch," he muttered to himself. "She still had the footage from the island."

He sat there and watched the whole show ignoring the nagging throb somewhere deep inside of his chest. The footage from the boat, the reveal that Sully was alive, even him tearing the page out of the ship manifest. She had it all. But not once during the show did she reveal what truly happened to Sir Francis or the idol. She'd kept their secret and that's probably why she never told him about it. The only thing he wondered now was how in the hell she'd managed to salvage the footage from the island. They'd never gone back for her camera.

"Now I bet a lot of you are wondering how all this footage survived since I lost the camera and a good chunk of my story," Elena said.

"Uh… yeah!" he answered aloud.

"Well it turns out I had luck on my side," she continued. "Because just before I lost the camera I had to change tapes and the full tape somehow managed to survive the rest of my adventure in this plastic bag in the pocket of my cargo pants."

She held up the bag displaying the formerly lost footage. His jaw dropped.

"Well I'll be damned…" he said climbing up off the couch.

The T.V. played in the background while he started a pot of coffee. It was going to be a long day especially since he was going to have her stuck in his head for the rest of it. He leaned back against the counter and watched as the coffee maker slowly dripped black liquid into the pot. Suddenly over the T.V. and the coffee maker he picked out an urgent buzzing noise. On the counter across from him his cell phone lit up.

"What the…" he mumbled picking it up.

Who on earth would be calling him this early in the morning? Only a number showed up on the screen, a number he didn't know. Cautiously he pressed the talk button and held the phone to his ear.

"Uh… hello?" he asked.

"Hello, Nate," a deeply accented woman's voice answered.

"Who is this?"

"What?" the voice asked coyly. "Don't you remember me, cowboy?"

He knew that voice. Granted he hadn't heard it in years but the memory rang true. Only one person he knew could have an Aussie accent like that.

"Chloe?" he asked hesitantly.

"Bingo," she answered. He could almost hear her smiling.

"How did you get this number?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is what I have to offer you," she said dodging his question.

"And what would that be?"

"It's been seven years, Nate. I've grown up. I'm not the naïve little girl I once was. And the word on the street is you've grown up too and become quite the accomplished treasure hunter no less."

"Oh really?" he asked. "What streets have you been hanging out on?"

She laughed, "Well, let's just say, if you're up for an adventure you'll meet me at Sullivan's bar in one week. That is, if you think you can handle it."

"Oh, I'll see you there," he said accepting her challenge. "And I look forward to it."

"Mmm. I'm sure you do."

"Sully's bar. One week," he said repeating her instructions. "I'll be waiting."

"With baited breath…" she whispered and the line went dead.

Nate stared at his phone heart thudding madly inside his chest. For the first time in months he found himself not thinking about a fair skinned Floridian with golden hair but of a deeply tanned dark-haired Australian with challenging eyes.

"I've gotta call Sully," he said to himself urgently dialing the number.

"Hello," a gruff voice answered.

"Sully, you're not going to believe this…"

* * *

**Ok so this is the actual first chapter of this fill in the gaps of the story thing I've got going on here. This is how I think Nate and Elena broke up. It seemed plausable. He's always risking his life, nearly getting himself killed. She just couldn't handle it anymore and left. Then enter the Chloe. Oh, and all that information about Nate's past girlfriends and past with Chloe. That was all based on information from Nate's Journal. I found a high resolution image of it on the Uncharted Wiki and was able to lift the names, contries of origin, year and even month of when Nate met them. According to that Nate first met and assumably had a relationship with Chloe in 2002 at age 20. Ok... I'll stop rambling now and get to work on the next chapter.**


	2. Another Door Opens

Nate sat at the bar anxiously tapping his foot against the metal rod that functioned as a footrest. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been wound this tight.

"Jesus, kid," Sully said as he polished a glass with his towel. "Calm down. I'm about ready to have an anxiety attack just looking at you."

"I'm just nervous, Sully," Nate defended himself. "I haven't seen this girl in seven years."

"So, let me get this straight. You haven't seen the girl in seven years and she calls you up out of the blue and tells you to meet her here. You don't find anything about that a bit… hinky?"

"Hinky? Well I don't think I've ever found anything hinky," Nate said receiving a look for once again mocking Sully's strange vocabulary. "But what exactly are you getting it at?"

"Think about it," Sully said but Nate had nothing. "All I'm saying is if you have a kid, kid, I might just die laughing."

"Thanks, Sully," Nate grumbled.

He was so worked up he might just stroke out and the old man was cracking jokes.

"Damn, kid, take a joke," Sully said. He went to the cooler behind him and pulled out a beer. Popping the top off, he handed it to Nate. "Drink this. It might calm you down."

"Thanks."

"Who's this girl you're meeting again?" he asked.

"Chloe, Chloe Frazer," Nate answered. "You remember her, don't you?"

"Isn't she the one you dated after you and Marie called it off?"

"That's the one."

"Oh, yeah. I remember her. I never forget an ass… uh, erm, I mean face," Sully stuttered correcting himself.

"Sure you don't," Nate muttered.

"I gotta go grab something from inside," Sully said. "Be right back."

Nate watched the old man walk away from the outdoor part of his bar to the inside part across the way. Business was still good for him down here on this Peruvian beach. The same couldn't be said for Nate. Taking a swig of his beer Nate tried to calm his nerves. Setting it down, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He'd been sitting here for an hour and a half and still no sign of Chloe. He was beginning to think she wasn't coming when suddenly a shadow was looming over him.

"Buy me a drink, sailor?" the shadow asked but it certainly wasn't Chloe.

He turned in surprise, "Harry Flynn?"

Nate jumped up and hugged his old friend, "Hey!"

Harry returned the sentiment.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.

"I'm looking for you, mate," Harry answered.

"Uh-oh," Nate said taking a step back. "Should I be flattered, or worried?"

"Maybe a bit of both," Harry said stealing Nate's beer and heading to a nearby table. "C'mere, I've got a job for us."

"Really?" Nate said taking the seat across from him and stealing back his drink.

Harry set down the black folder he'd be carrying with him on the table.

"A client is willing to part with a huge sum of cash if we acquire a certain object for him," he explained.

"I'm listening," Nate said getting interested. Anything was better than sitting around waiting for a girl that wasn't coming.

"Now, you aren't going to like this," Harry warned opening the folder.

He passed Nate a brochure for the Palace Museum in Istanbul housing an exhibit devoted to Marco Polo. Alarms went off in his head trigger bad memories. There was no way he was going back there again.

"Oh, no. No, you're out of your mind," he said pushing the pamphlet back.

"Yeah, just… just hear me out for a sec…" Harry tried to explain.

"Flynn, we both know two people who were killed trying to lift something outta this place," Nate countered cutting him off.

"And one who made it out," Harry pushed.

"Yeah, barely," Nate said not having any of it.

"I can't do this without you, Drake," Harry said pleading to his ego. "You're the only one who's cracked it. And you know better than anyone, it's a two person job."

"No, no, no," Nate pointed. "Three actually."

"And speak of the devil, here she comes now."

Harry turned and Nate followed his gaze. The woman that walked out from behind the pillar in her bright red t-shirt and tossed a beer to Harry was definitely not who he would have expected but at the same time exactly who he'd been expecting. Chloe. The last seven years had changed her. She was wearing her hair different and gave off and entirely different vibe than she had when he first met her. Confidence seemed to radiate off of her. But he was completely thrown. When she'd called him she'd made it seem like she was coming alone. Now he found out she was in on something with Flynn.

"Wh…?" he started to say.

"Chloe Frazer," she introduced herself like they'd never met and shook his hand.

"Nate. Drake. Nathan Drake," he said trying to figure out what she was playing at.

She gave him a warning look then proceeded to act like she'd never met him. She walked around behind Harry running her hand across the back of his neck.

"Hello, Harry," she said taking the vacant seat beside him.

"Chloe here's one of the best drivers in the business," Harry explained while Nate just watched Chloe with a confused look on his face. "She'll take good care of us."

"I bet."

Chloe positioned herself in her chair and gave Nate a critical stare. He had so many questions he wanted to ask her but her eyes were saying 'shut up and play along you big idiot'.

"Alright," Harry said standing and opening the booklet. "I've got it all figured out."

Nate and Chloe leaned in to get a better look.

"We go in through the sewer…" Harry continued.

"Loving it so far," Nate interjected sending Chloe a look that said 'what the hell is going on'.

She ignored him.

"That puts us in the courtyard," Harry pointed to a place on the map. "From there we scale up the wall, run across the rooftops, and just drop down into the exhibit hall. Bob's your uncle."

Nate took another swig of his beer trying to comprehend all that Harry was throwing at him. Meanwhile Harry retook his seat. He wasn't finished yet.

"And what is worth all this trouble, I hear you ask…?"

"I didn't, but go ahead," Nate said wondering when Flynn was finally going to get to the punch line.

Harry flipped the book to the next page revealing the image of a jade oil lamp circled in red pen. Nate was a little crest fallen, after all this trouble he was hoping for something better than that.

"That's it?" he asked incredulously. "An oil lamp?"

Harry held up a postcard with a picture of the lamp on it, "Yep."

Nate laughed. They had to be playing a joke on him.

"It's worthless. I don't get it."

"Neither do we," Chloe said seriously interjecting for the first time since her entrance. "That's why we tracked you down."

"Well, it sounds like you're working for a nutcase," Nate said no longer interested. "Some collector who's got too much time and money on his hands. And by the way, this," he held up the postcard, "is not worth any of it."

Harry sat back in his chair and fingered his beer bottle a mischievous grin on his face.

"But there's more…" Harry said pulled something else out of his folder. "How's your thirteenth-century Latin, mate?"

Nate leaned forward and took the sheet from Harry. Now this was something special and rare which had him concerned. You didn't find papers like this just lying around.

"Where'd you get this?" he asked looking between the two of them.

Harry grinned, "Borrowed it from the files of the nutcase."

Nate looked at the page. He could easily translate it. He'd dealt with Latin before on his many of his previous escapades.

"In Trebizond we were set upon by thieves," he read aloud. "Father, Maffeo and I were robbed of our greatest treasures… This was written by Marco Polo," he said excitedly.

"Yes, that much we were able to work out," Chloe said gesturing to herself and Flynn.

Harry sat back in his chair, "Unfortunately, the rest of it is nonsense."

"Wait, hold on…" Nate said. He hadn't finished reading yet. "So that is should not fall into the wrong hands, I concealed my great sorrow in the unlikeliest place. The light of the Great Khan shelters the fate of the thirteen."

"See what I mean?" Harry shrugged. "It's just gibberish."

Chloe didn't seem so put out. Nate could read it in her eyes and she sat forward excitedly. She'd come to the same conclusion he had.

"He's talking about the lost fleet," she said directly to him.

"Yeah," Nate agreed.

Harry had no idea what they were talking about, "Hello, someone want to fill me in?"

"Marco Polo leaves China with six hundred passengers and fourteen ships, loaded down with treasure from Kublai Khan," Nate explained. "Now, he lands in Persia a year and a half later with only one ship left, and only eighteen passengers."

Energy was now buzzing between the three of them now. Nate looked over the papers again.

"Now, he recorded every detail of his journey but he never told what happened to all those ships and the passengers."

"So… so, somewhere out there, there are thirteen ships loaded with the emperor's treasure, waiting to be found," Chloe concluded.

"Yeah, and that is what your client is after," Nate finished.

Harry was still considering their theory.

"Look at this lamp," he said handing the card to Harry. "It's covered in Mongolian script; it must've been a gift from Kublai Khan."

"The light of the Great Khan…" Harry quoted the journal.

"… Shelters the fate of the thirteen," Chloe finished with him.

"Marco Polo hid something inside this lamp," Nate said taking the card from Harry. "Something that pinpoints the site of the lost fleet."

He tossed the card back down on the table and sat back in his chair satisfied with his conclusion. This discovery could be even bigger than El Dorado. Especially if they could actually tell people about it.

"So…" Chloe said asking what they were all thinking. "We're dicking this guy over, right?"

"Damn straight!" Nate said.

"Absolutely!" Harry said at the same time.

Chloe laughed and threw her hands up as if to say 'of course'. Harry rose and grabbed his beer.

"You in then?" he asked.

Chloe echoed Flynn's movements smiling at Nate.

"What the hell," Nate said rising. "What could possibly go wrong?"

They all clinked their bottles together sealing the deal. If only Nate had seen the look in Harry's eyes he might have known something was up. But the thrill of the hunt was too much to deny and he had other things on his mind.

* * *

**So this chapter is a lot of what we already knew granted I spent an hour getting the dialogue correct. Thank God for youtube. I just wanted to put a little extra meaning into Nate's meeting with Harry and Chloe. Cheers!**


	3. In on the Action

Chloe jogged up the stairs taking the last flight two at a time. She'd never admit it but she was anxious to see him alone, after all it had been seven years. Knowing Nate he was probably still miffed about that stunt she'd pulled with Harry but after how he'd left things all those years ago he deserved to be a little miffed.

She looked at the room numbers and then at the number written on her arm in black ink. Luckily after both Nate and Harry had left the bar the day before she'd hung around long enough to work Nate's whereabouts out of Victor. He'd easily caved and given her the exact address of Nate's hotel room. Finally she found a match.

"Well, this is the right place," she said double checking.

Raising her fist she pounded on the door five times. No answer. She tried again louder this time. After a few moments there was still no answer. Patience wasn't exactly one of her virtues so she tried a third time. After the fifth and final knock she could hear footsteps approaching the door from the other side. Extending her arm she leaned against the door frame. Moments later the door flew open. Nate gave her a hard look.

"Hello," she said using her best seductive voice.

He just rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around her waist almost pushing her into the room. She'd definitely seen him in better moods.

"Well," she laughed jogging in forward a few steps. "So much for foreplay."

She looked around the hotel room. It was obvious he'd been here a couple of days by the empty bottles on the dresser and the waded dirty clothes on the floor. She smirked. Seems he hadn't changed all that much in the years since she'd last seen him.

"Do you mind telling me what the hell is going on?" he asked in a no nonsense sort of way.

"You mean with Flynn?" she asked.

"Yeah, you mighta warned me," he said giving away his emotions.

"And miss the look on your face?" she teased.

Her teasing had serious undertones though. She played like she wasn't still a little hurt after what he'd done but she was. That stunt with Harry was her way of saying maybe I want you to feel a little shocked and betrayed for once. After seven years of wondering it was all she could do to keep up this nonchalant manner him.

"Anyway, you haven't exactly made yourself easy to find," she said picking his journal up of the dresser and flipping it open.

The last time she'd heard from Nate was when he'd called her to tell her he'd finally figured it out and he needed to go talk to his dad. He'd told her he'd be back just as soon as he could. The next thing she knew Marie was knocking on her door and saying that Nate was gone, that he'd up and left without telling anyone where he was going or if he had any intentions of coming back. He hadn't even had the courtesy to bid her a proper farewell. Just a hastily scrawled note Marie had given her.

"Talk about making yourself easy," he snapped snatching back his journal.

She watched as he set the journal on the end table surprised by his reaction.

"Oh, you're not jealous…" she said stepping closer. In a way she was relieved. Jealousy meant he still had feelings for her but at the same time he was completely out of line. "Let's not forget who walked out on whom, after all. You don't get to be jealous."

She pushed him down onto the bed. There was a soft thud as he connected and the old springs inside the bedding squeaked. Either he really was trying to stay under the radar or he was just that broke for renting this old rundown hole in the wall.

"Wait a minute, Chloe…" he said but she was on a roll.

"If it makes you feel any better my relationship with Flynn is strictly professional," she said climbing onto his lap.

His eyebrows perked up, "Really?"

"Mostly professional," she amended.

He groaned and flopped back onto the mattress.

"Look," she said leaning over him. "When I found out he was actually onto something I thought you'd want to be in on the action."

As she talked she strategically placed his hands on her thighs. By the time she was done with him there would be no possible way he could say no. He looked at his hand then back to her with a soft pat on her thigh. She had is attention now.

"So what's the plan?" he sighed.

She sat back up.

"Just like we said," she told him as he propped himself up on his elbows. "We pull the heist, we find the ships, and we make off with the treasure."

"With Flynn?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm."

"And then?"

"And then we split the take three ways and you and I just disappear," she said simply her fingers crawling up his chest, after all, treasure was nice but all she wanted at this exact moment was him. "Together, this time."

"I see…" he said not sounding so sure, like something was nagging at the back of his mind.

"Until then, he can't know about us," she stated then moved it to do what she'd wanted to do this whole time.

Nate pulled back, "He's gonna be pissed."

"He's," she started pushing down on his chest so he collapsed onto his back, "gonna be fine."

Her lips met his and there was an electrifying moment as the embers of their old flame burst back to life. After all these years the spark was still there and once again he was hers.

Chloe woke the next morning draped across Nate's chest wearing nothing but her underwear and the shirt Nate had been wearing the night before. Her ebony hair was splayed out across the pillow next to her and for a moment she just basked in the warmth radiating through the shirt from Nate's bare chest. She remembered mornings like these, it was just so good to have him back. She pretended like she was still asleep if just to stay close to him for a little bit longer.

"Good morning," he said seeing through her rouse.

"Morning," she answered.

He shifted underneath of her. She rolled over onto her back giving Nate the freedom to get up. After Nate climbed up off the bed she must have dozed off because when she woke up for the second time Nate was standing across the room leaning up against the dresser with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. The morning sunlight filtered through the shades and gleamed off his sun tanned skin as he stood there wearing only the wrinkled jeans from the day before along with that ring on a string that never seemed to leave his neck. He watched her with a bemused look on his face.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he grinned.

She grunted in response and sat up stretching and running her fingers through her thick hair.

"Still asleep?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm," she nodded raking the hair out of her face.

"Maybe this will help," he said showing her the fresh pot of coffee.

Chloe climbed up off the bed revealing her long bronzed legs. She wasn't that much shorter than Nate so his shirt barely covered more of her than it would him. Walking over to him she laced her arms around his waist her fingers brushing across a few rough patches of scar tissue that mottled his skin. He'd sure seen a lot of action in his twenty seven years.

"What?" Nate asked.

"Huh?" she said snapping out of her headspace.

"You were looking at me funny," he stated.

"I think you're seeing things," she grinned then kissed him gently. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," he smiled. There was a lingering moment where they just stood there with their faces inches apart. "Coffee?"

Stepping back she took the plain ceramic mug out of his hand.

"So you never did tell me," he said.

"Tell you what?"

"How you found me."

"Oh… it was simple really," she said down on the bed the neckline of Nate's shirt falling off her shoulder.

"If it was so simple then why didn't you find me years ago?" he ribbed.

"Because I was missing a vital piece of information, information I got from Harry," she explained.

Nate's eyebrows went up, "I find it hard to believe that Harry would have told you where I was, especially because he doesn't even know we know each other."

"Well, I didn't say he gave it to me willingly," she said coyly.

"Maybe you should just tell the whole story," he prompted.

"Fine," she sighed. "It started out as just another night in another bar…"

_Chloe sat at a table by herself sipping her drink. She'd been fending off advances from half-drunken idiots that thought they were worth her time all night. So naturally she wasn't pleased to suddenly find a foreign hand on her shoulder. Balling up her fist she prepared to slug the guy if he didn't have enough sense to back off._

_"If I were you," she warned. "I'd turn around and walk away."_

_"Now, don't be like that," a distinctly British voice answered. She knew that voice._

_Turning she was greeted with a familiar face, "Harry Flynn, I was beginning to wonder when I'd see you again."_

_"I bet you were," he smirking taking the only other vacant seat at the table. "So how's business?"_

_"It's been better," she said shifting in her seat. "I seem to have hit a bit of a slow period."_

_"So that means you're up for hire?" he asked._

_"Why?" she replied warily. Not all of Harry's ideas were good ones, in fact, very rarely were any of them good._

_"Because I've got a job for you," he explained to her relief._

_"Oh, really?" she asked sitting forward._

_"Yeah."_

_"What are we talking about here, Harry?" she asked._

_"Just a heist… so here's the lay down…"_

_"Let me guess," she cut him off. "Some rich nutcase with way too much time and money on his hands is willing to pay and obscene amount of cash if we pull some ballsy heist risking both of our skins for some random artifact we know nothing about and in the end you'll end up doing most of the work and I'll just be the getaway driver. We split the take between us and reward ourselves with a weekend in Vegas."_

_"You really are a woman after my own heart," Harry grinned._

_Chloe gave him a look. They'd been down this road before but he was ever the persistent one. He knew she still had too many lingering issues from a past relationship to get involved in anything serious._

_"In your dreams," she said._

_"Eh, you'll warm up to me eventually," he said. "I have a tendency to grow on people."_

_"Oh, I sure," she said rolling her eyes. "So what exactly are we going after?"_

_"This," Harry stated handing her a postcard with a polished photo on the front._

_"This? Are you serious?" she scoffed. "A jade oil lamp? How could this possibly be worth all that trouble?"_

_"Because this is not just any lamp," Harry continued. "This lamp once belonged to Marco Polo."_

_"Marco Polo? The Marco Polo?"_

_"Yeah, I also have this," he handed her a sheet of note card paper with an old piece of parchment tacked onto it. "This is from the journals of Marco Polo."_

_"Where did you get this?" she asked._

_"From my client's files, the files of the nutcase if you will," he smirked. "It describes part of Marco Polo's journey but the rest is a load of gibberish. Then again my Latin is a bit shoddy."_

_"Well, I can't read Latin at all," she said handing the sheet back to him._

_He slid it into back into the folder._

_"So, are you in?"_

_"Why not?"_

_"Fantastic," he said grinning. "One down."_

_"One down? What do you mean one down?" she asked._

_"Well… this is a three person job and I'm still trying to track down our third," Harry explained._

_"Who?" she asked._

_"An old partner of mine. Haven't worked with him in years but I managed to track down his number from some friends of ours. He's the only one who's cracked the Istanbul Palace Museum and lived to tell the tale. After what happened last time he won't be too keen on going back but I'm sure I can talk him into it."_

_"Who, Harry?"_

_"A guy by the name of Nathan Drake."_

_His answer took Chloe off guard. That wasn't a name she ever expected to hear again especially from Harry Flynn and certainly not after what had happened._

_"Nathan Drake?" _

_"Yes," Harry said gauging her answer. "Why? Do you know him?"_

_"No! No," she said regaining her cool. "I don't. I've only heard of him. He's good."_

_"He is good," Harry agreed sounding a little suspicious. "Some days a little too good… and he hasn't been answering his phone. But I think I know someone who can tell me exactly where to find him."_

_"Oh really?"_

_"Let's just say we're going to Peru," Harry grinned._

_Suddenly Harry's phone started going off. He quickly pulled it out and looked at it._

_"I'll be right back," he said then stood abruptly and walked away._

_Chloe eyed the black folder. When Harry opened it she'd seen the hastily scrawled note inside. Checking to make sure he was gone she flipped open the folder and pulled out the not. Scribbled on it in Harry's messy handwriting was a number with N. Drake scrawled beside it. Pulling a pen out of her pocket she quickly copied down the number onto a napkin. Closing the folder she folded the napkin and tucked it into her pocket…_

"… and you pretty much know what happened after that," Chloe finished.

"Unbelievable," Nate said. "You stole my number right out from underneath of him when he wasn't looking."

"And made sure you were waiting at Sullivan's bar when Harry came looking," she added.

"You played us both," he said sounding repulsed and impressed at the same time.

"Like violins."


End file.
